It's helpless. Or was it?

This is my way of saying goodbye,
'cause I can't do it face to face,
so I'm talking to you before it's too late.

No matter what happens now
I won't be afraid, because I know
today has been the most perfect day I've ever seen.

There is no end to our pain as is,
I can't help thinking this could have been stopped
but we were so young and we screwed up
and if this ever blows over
just know I didn't regret a single day of us.

No matter what happens now
I shouldn't be afraid because I know
that you love me and I love you
so what's the point in worrying.

For a minute there, I lost my self

For I minute I forgot where I was
I had a lot to think about
but no time to act it out.
You see, I think about us when it's least convenient for every one else
and when I think about us everyone else just disappears into thin air.

Stop right there and look into my eyes
girl of mine, my one and only please be true
to me and when you look at me like that
you better be ready for the night of your life.

Hmm. Something I thought or. . wrote. .  No, thought. I thought of the first like three lines like while I was around doing my stuff, then when I sat down to write it, I like. . . just kept on writing. Any way it's kinda mediocre, and in case you didn't know, I play music sometimes and stuff. So this is kinda like a song and junk. I have like you know and idea of how it's supposed to sound in my mind and I think it sounds pretty freaking good. Anyway, the sad thing about my music career is that I spend way to much time writing, I mean not TOO much time, but most of my time so, as far as music is concerned, my creativity far surpasses my skill. Which is really really depressing. I don't like it at all, I wish I would have pulled my shit together in the past when I started learning music, when I was like 7, Now, I would be able to like play anything that I thought of and I really don't like it. I hate it, actually.

     For a minute there, I lost my self.

Comfortable silence

Help me, call a doctor. Put me inside. Put. Me. Inside.

I want to go inside. I want to be alone with just a pen and an endless supply of paper. I won't though simply because I can control myself just enough to not be legally insane. I love a few certain people and honestly I want to be with them but like Urma Thurman's character, Mia said in Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction " Why do we feel it's necessary to yack about bullshit, in order to feel comfortable? That's when you know you've found someone really special, when you can shut the fuck up for a minute and share a silence." Enough said on that subject.

Lately I've been dying to find someone with whom I can spend said comfortable silences with. I have found no one as of yet. I had a few candidates, but I can only think of one person and that person isn't here. That person is so much more than just not here. That person is straight up gone. That person is lost without me and with out a we, recently, I've been lost. I'm lost to people lost to hope. Lost to what's right and what I'm supposed to do in order for me to be, in your eyes, alright. I don't have enough elbow space, clear that, move that over there, what's that on the desk? a fucking piece of hair? Well, Freddy, you are a human, you do shed so just get focus up and get back on the topic. Where was I. Right. I'm not really lost. I'm just at a loss. I don't know WHAT I want to do. I've found the road to right, the road to want, the road to what I need and the road to what's indefinitely wrong. Which will I take though? Which will I end up on? Which will end up being my source of
pain, or comfort. Of love or hate. Of happiness or sorrow? Of you and me, or there's you and there's me.

     I think about that dream all the time. How she was just standing there and then it came up and tried to sink it's teeth in her throat. Then she was gone and her face fused with his and it's teeth we long and dark, like a day where clouds are gray and rainfall knows now bounds. It's out of bounds, against the rules, the way you look at me like that. What have I done to you? I don't owe you anything. You don't know me for anything yet you look at me like this land is free, well maybe this great country is, but this is my house, bitch put your eyes somewhere else.

That is all

Broken

I can't cry. . . So once again. . . I can't sleep.

when you have insomnia. . . I can literally quote this entire movie. 

A tear just fell from my eye. . . literally. a single tear. It was heavy, it welled for a long period of time, undisturbed, on the bottom eyelid of my left eye. *Take what I am about to say at complete face value for it is complete and utter truth* This tear though didn't come from roots of any sorts of emotions. I'm sick, you see, and my nose is raw from sneezing and wiping, my throat dry and my eyes have burned for a good amount of time due to the fact that I regularly practice stopping my sneeze. So my tears, usually provoked by matters of extreme emotion have come forth today without a drop of such emotion. not a drop of emotion for a leakage of said tear drop. . .

I've awaken to find no peace of mind way too many times. I've gone to bed with all hell aloof in my head. I've dreamed the dream you've only dreamed of having a million times. The nightmare with the same attribute, one more time than that. I can't sleep from fear that I've done the day that just passed all wrong. I've done it all wrong and I can't help but think you knew it all along. I didn't even mean to make that rhyme, but it did. Underneath the light is blue but when I look up and I see you I've lost all will to fight and my fears just won't take flight. They won't leave me be. What am I scared of? I don't know. I'm not scared of my future. I'm not scared of tomorrow. I'm not scared of yesterday. I'm not scared of you. I'm not scared of them. I'm scared that I don't know what to do RIGHT NOW. I want the answer for right now, not the solution for tomorrow. I want an explanation for why I cry at night, not for you ti tell me it WILL be alright. I want to be with her, is that too much to ask? Is it too much to even think of wanting anything? Is it selfish to not be completely selfless? Am I wrong for not always being right. Is this world black and white? No. It can't be. It isn't black and white. I'm in denial. No I'm not. see. . . I am. broken.

for your eyes only.

O.K. O.K. This is me breathing. Telling myself *sh sh sh sh sh* it's all going to be O.K. because that's just what happens. I'm scared, Jane. I love you, yes. I know you love me. That is also a positive, but can't I be allowed, just a little bit, to be scared? I've been writing a  lot. A lot A lot. More than I ever wrote to you and more than I've ever done anything else in my entire life. And it's only been like two days. Jane's gone on an adventure or two. It's very very interesting. I am rather proud of myself. I don't think you'd like the way I portray her though. It's very. . . Not you, to say the least. Speaking in code has been my forte as of late. I've been reading a lot. I've read two books on the subject of psychological and one on the subject of screenwriting. All in about one week, all very interesting and all very educational. I. Love you Jane. I love you so so much. Please don't forget me. I know you won't. Don't say anything on the subject, please just let me think a little bit. . . Still thinking. Sorry. I won't be done talking for a very very long time.

Wishes and lotus flowers

Click here. please. now. please. or else. please

So Thom Yorke is a genius. This I and I'm sure, you, already knew. That video. He's a creative genius and his creativity knows no bounds. Not normality. Not other's opinions. Not anything. And thanks to this he is famous. In the combined months of February and March, out of ten shows, only two of them aren't sold out. And we're still in January.

     I wish that tomorrow could be two years from now.
     I wish that last Sunday could have all been a horrible nightmare that I woke up from to find that that day was actually absolutely amazing because the coming upon of knowledge that what you just experienced isn't true has to be way more amazing than anything I've ever felt.
     I wish that my hair would be the perfect length, jet black and straight.
     I wish that Dublin Dr. Peppers were a national thing.
     I wish that Whataburger was a national thing.
     I wish that Glenn Beck would read my blog.
     I wish that for all the stupid stupid things I've done there was someone that could, almost magically, erase and forgive all of them. . . [Granted]
     I wish that my nose wasn't so freaking raw from sneezing. 

     I wish that I could shower every hour.
     I wish I knew her name.
     I wish that my ability matched my creativity.
     I wish that maybe one day, you would just. . . love me and we could be perfect.
     I wish that felicity would leave me the fuck alone.
     I wish that Janey (not to be confused with Jane, the love of my life, Janey is what most would refer to as their unconscious mind and state of being)  would go die in a hole
     I wish that all people's intelligence didn't come with a curse of sorts.
     I wish that this song would go on forever and ever without the need of a repeat button.
     I wish mom were here.
     I wish I could be with you
     I wish I was stronger.
 
The lotus flower was the ancient symbol in many Asian cultures for sexual purity. 

Jane - warning.

I had a dream Jane. More of a nightmare really. One that occurred in my consciousnesses though. So, a daymare? I suppose that would suffice it. I was in that place, between sleep and said consciousness. I'm sure you've heard of it, I'll call it inter somnos, Latin for between slumber. Any way. Not too long ago while inter somnos, I was immediately forced to a complete and irreversible state of awareness. I sat on my bed, indian style with my back to my headboard and for a long time let the pain of my bad knees wash over me trying to vacate my mind of the aforementioned 'daymare'. I was thinking of the movie Shawshank Redemption and the scene where it's the day to be paired with the night in which Andy escapes and he makes Red promise him that he'll go to that place, find that rock and stuff. Anyway. He told him of how him and his wife made love under the tree. Immediately thoughts of you and I flashed into my memory and I couldn't breathe and I forced my mind to stop. I don't know how but I did. This is truly what torture is. Being reminded of something you can't have simply because someone else says no. Not only am I reminded of it, but I remind my own self of it. I do so even without the want to or the realization that I am doing so. Once again I ask you: what's in a name? For I, who is still called Frederik does not act like the good ol' Freddy everyone so much loved in the past. I have not been myself. I regret to inform you of such a truth. The fact is, though. That's the truth.

Jane.

What's in a name, that a rose, should not it be called a rose, would still smell just as sweet. Or. . . something like that. High School drama was a long time ago. No, not cafeteria drama, we didn't have a real Juliet and I wasn't Romeo, naturally born with all the Shakespearean lines already in my DNA. Although that would have been cool. Like drama, drama. The elective, the not quite band geek (which I also was), but still definitely not popular crowd. I promise you, unless you go to a High school dedicated specifically to art, the drama geeks aren't the jocks, like in High School Musical. No, I was a nerd on many fronts, the music, the acting, the intelligence, the books. I got caught reading the Ender's series and all some guy saw was a picture of a futur-ey jet looking thingy. And there you had it, I was being made fun of. . . for reading. Hey, I'm Frederick, I don't play sports unless forced, I don't go outside, unless raining, and I don't mind sitting at my computer or behind a book all day long. You know what though. I can make more money doing what I do with mediocrity than you could make doing what you do unless you're in the top 5 percent of the nation. Another thing, I don't do what I do with mediocrity. You do. So make fun of me for the next five years. Please do it, it will make my glorious success in the future taste that much more sweet.

Jane.

Jane,

     Thank you for respecting me. I wasn't planning on talking to you, either. I would very much like to be friends in the future but please note that the future means. . . Well, never mind. I'm sure we'll be able to asses when it would be O.K. We will be adults by then. I would, if it is o.k. with you, like to know the details of everything that happened since Monday morning. I know they must be hard to bear and hard to relive but I would appreciate it greatly. In the mean time. There is a place where you could hear my voice any time you wished. Let me know if you want to know where it is. I can't wait for the day that we are our own people and we are not controlled in our private lives. I hope. I hope like hell that you won't be taken. Not that I want you to wait for me, but that you will not have found anyone you think would suit the place I once held no longer than a week ago. I miss you. My love for you is dormant, but it's there and I can call on it in a matter of hours. Once again. thank you so much for doing what I asked of you. Thank you. so so so much.

Jane.

I do wish to be with you. Your friends though. I must steer clear of. Forever. I think of what they must think of me, even though not true, and It irks me. It's embarrassing. It's painful. It's terrifying actually.

So like we had talked long before, I will wait for you to come back to school. we're graduating soon :) And if you come back, I'll know for sure that we're going to be together forever. If I can't see you, though. I can't be with you. So please, come back to school. Leave me be, otherwise. I'm sorry, this is just how it has to be. I do indeed love you.

4 minute warning

Dear Radiohead... but mostly Thom Yorke,

     Your songs stir up my emotion in the most sincere and subtle way I can possibly fathom. Not just the bad emotions when the song you've written is sad but the good happy ones as well. I never lack when I listen to your music, I can always find a song that you've written to suite my state.

Four minute warning -  " This is just a nightmare. Soon I'm gonna wake up, someone's gonna bring me 'round. Running from the bombings, hiding in the forest, running through the fields. Laying flat on the ground. Just like everybody standing on their heads, running from the underground. . . I don't wanna hear it, I don't wanna know. I just wanna run and hide. This. Is. Just. A. Nightmare."
     Something nightmarish has happened. I've gone numb or I've been pushed into disbelief that reality is what I am really experiencing. The music is in a major key. There are some accidentals but for the most part, it sounds Major. The lyrics though, they're sad no doubt, so this song really gives me a chance to explore my depression without getting too far into it because of the major sounding music.

Scatterbrain- "Any fool can easy pick a hole I only wish I could fall into. . . Somewhere I'm not Scatterbrain."
     Title says it all.

Nude - I get nothing at all from the words in this song but the music makes my heart flutter. It. breathe. It just. makes me. feel. It makes me. . . It grants me ability to function without thought.

All I need - This song lists things that only need you. You being a general statement for people, but then, at the end of the song states that "... I only stick with you because there are no others..." meaning, to me at least, that they have no choice but to need you. So don't feel too special.